


Cat Napped

by valancy_joy



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, and nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valancy_joy/pseuds/valancy_joy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeah, I don't know what possessed me, but it's been a long couple of weeks and who doesn't want more fic where James cuddles kittens and Robbie cuddles him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat Napped

Lewis was standing at his back door, calling out into the night, "Whisht, you daft cat, where are you?"

"Tea's ready," came James' voice from the kitchen. 

Robbie left the back door ajar and went into the kitchen. He sighed as he was handed a warm cup of tea.

"Bring that packet of HobNobs, too, I've a hankering for something sweet," he said as he went towards the lounge where the TV burbled on, volume turned low. 

They were deep into a discussion of Prague as a suitable setting for a holiday excursion when Monty slipped in the open door, a flash of something brown and white in his mouth.

Before either man could really react, Monty hopped up on the sofa with his prize which he proceeded to drop in James' lap, and then sat watching James, his tail tip flicking.

With a small "mrow" the small ball of fur unfurled itself and after waving its white tipped paws in the air for a moment, wriggling, it righted itself, and proceeded to try and climb up James' tie. 

"Thought for sure you were getting a lap full of dead pigeon," Robbie said, laughing as he got up and pushed the door shut. 

"A lap full of wet kitten is a marginal improvement," James said, smiling. "Do you think you could grab a towel? This poor thing's soaking."

When Robbie got back with a tea towel, Monty was lying on the sofa, front paws on James' leg, watching James and the kitten intently. Leaning over the back of the sofa, Robbie watched James rub the kitten dry. Its drying fur crackled a bit with static and made it look even fluffier. But the application of a good scrubbing with the towel showed it to be a very small tabby kitten with white on its paws and under its chin. When James picked it up to stare in its face it hissed a bit, and Robbie laughed when he realized its fur was very nearly the same color as James' hair.

James flipped the kitten over for a quick check before saying, "That will be quite enough of that, Miss." 

He tried to set her down beside Monty, but the kitten screeched, and clung onto James' hand. Then she got her claws into his shirt cuff and tried to climb up his arm. 

“Your young Miss is a bit of a goer," Robbie said with a smile. "Trespassing and assaulting a police officer already..."

"Sounds about right," James muttered as he settled the kitten on his chest. Robbie's hand tightened on James' shoulder for a moment, and then he gathered up their cups went off into the kitchen to make another round of tea.

When he came back into the lounge, he found James holding the kitten which was busily licking his chin. He sat down on the sofa next to the pair.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new case,” he said, reaching out to scratch under the kitten’s chin. The kitten promptly nipped at him and he pulled his hand back.

“S’like something out of a storybook, innit, The Mystery of the Mysterious Kitten or whatnot,” Robbie said. “We’ll have to check with the neighbors, see who she belongs to. Can’t have Monty going around stealing other people’s kittens, can I?” Robbie asked, glaring at the cat happily purring on the other end of the sofa. 

James didn’t respond, except to murmur something into the kitten’s ear as it tried to bite his shirt collar. 

Robbie sipped his tea, and eventually James said, “Tomorrow’s Saturday, we can go around and check. But there must have been some reason Monty brought Tibby to me…” he trailed off, fingers smoothing the kitten’s fur while he leaned over to get his own cup of tea. 

“Now, you haven’t gone and named her already have you? You daft, soft …”

“Tibby,” James said firmly. “Her name is Tibby.”

Robbie snorted, albeit fondly, and they settled back into the corner of the sofa, their attention shifting between the television where some earnest traveler was still extolling the virtues of Prague as a vacation spot, and the small sleepy kitten who was attempting not to fall asleep in the crook of James’ arm.


End file.
